Caliban turned away and strode disgustedly out of the crowd amid hoots of laughter.
"He is worth it; why he is worth any price," cried Pauline as the smiling groom led Firefly up to her.
The magnificent animal thrust its nose instantly between her outstretched arms, and as she patted him delightedly the crowd rippled with spontaneous applause.
Harry joined her on the way to see Firefly put in his stall. He gave the caretaker instructions, and laughingly dragged Pauline away from her new pet.
As they entered their machine, Raymond Owen came from behind the stable.
Engrossed in the business complications growing out of the European conflict, Harry had quite forgotten Firefly and the steeplechase when the day of the great Jericho handicap arrived.
He was in the library reading a letter when there burst upon his sight through the open doorway a vision that took his breath away.
Pauline, in full jockey uniform, white and blue and yellow, was pirouetting on her gleaming black boots before him.
"Polly!" he cried, unable to grasp the meaning of the prank. "Have you cut off your hair?" he added in alarm.
"No; here it is," she laughed, snapping off her visored cap and revealing masses of hair.